The Truth
by Crinklybrownleaves
Summary: This story is set after season 4. Jean's agreed to marry Lucien, but that doesn't mean it's all going to be simple.
1. A Hard Truth

**This is the story I've been trying not to write for a while, but it seems to have a life of its own. It's set after season 4.**

xxxxxxxxx

"The truth is rarely pure and never simple." Oscar Wilde

xxxxxxxxx

Jean left the letter on the hall table with the rest of the post, but that didn't mean she put it out of her mind. It had a Melbourne postmark, and she was fairly sure it was from Lucien's lawyer.

Three months had passed since Mei Lin had left, and they had discussed the divorce only once, and that was on the driveway, with emotions running high and Mei Lin scarcely out of sight. When Lucien had asked her to marry him, Jean had agreed, but told him he needed to sort out the divorce before she would be engaged to him.

He had agreed to that, and assured her he would get to work on it. But she had seen little sign of progress, and nothing at all had been said between them. It wasn't that she was unhappy with their lives as they were, but she wanted the divorce finished and their marriage settled.

A typewritten letter from Melbourne was a rarity, and she could think of nothing else it could be about. Jean may have shaken the letter curiously, and even held it up to the light, but she would never admit that, and she then left it on the table and got on with her morning as usual.

After lunch she noticed it had gone, and when she took Lucien a cup of tea during a break in his afternoon surgery she couldn't see it on his desk.

"Are you out at a rehearsal this evening, Jean?" he asked. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

She breathed a small sigh of relief. Progress, hopefully. And now she didn't need to raise the subject.

"Yes, I'm out later, but Charlie's not home for dinner so we should have some time then."

She dropped a brief kiss on his cheek as she put the cup down on his desk, and Lucien ran his hand over her hip as she stood next to him. The casual, familiar way he did this pleased her. She smiled at him a moment longer than usual before returning to the kitchen.

Later, as Jean served up the meal for the two of them, it occurred to her that Lucien was nervous. He took his time in settling at the table, and he seemed distracted. She placed the two plates on the table and sat down, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

He picked up his fork and tasted the pie, but didn't compliment her on it as he usually would.

"I had a letter from the lawyer today, Jean, about the divorce." He looked at her seriously.

"Is there a problem?" she asked, suddenly worried by his mood.

"In way, yes, there is," he continued slowly. "I'd hoped we could divorce quickly on the grounds of Mei Lin's adultery with Derek Alderton, but that's not going to be possible, apparently. It was a long time ago, and Derek is dead, so it seems a judge might not think that's reliable evidence."

"Even if Mei Lin agrees?" Jean's appetite had disappeared and she set her knife and fork down with a clatter.

"Yes, even then. So an alternative is to be separated for five years. The years before she came back don't count, he says, because I was still looking for her and we didn't choose to be separated."

Five years. Jean's heart sank. Hadn't they wasted enough time already?

"I see," she said in a small voice. "Is that it? There are no other options?"

"There are always options, Jean, but you might not like them either." He really didn't want to have to talk about what the lawyer had suggested, but he had no choice.

"The lawyer said that, perhaps, I could provide some evidence of...committing adultery, and that then Mei Lin could divorce me in Hong Kong. And that would perhaps be fairer to her - after all, I'm the one who wants the divorce." He looked Jean in the eye, trying to work out what her reaction would be.

"But..." she hesitated for a moment, "you haven't committed adultery, have you?" But now she wondered. Seventeen years was a long time, and maybe he had.

"No, but that isn't the point. What we need is some evidence that I might have done." Lucien put down his fork and cleared his throat. "The lawyer suggested that I should look into finding a private investigator to help me."

Jean was now staring at him open mouthed. "A private investigator? To help you commit adultery?" Her voice was rising in pitch and Lucien knew he was making a mess of this.

"Look, Jean, none of it would be real. I'd have to spent a night somewhere, probably a hotel in Melbourne. The investigator would take some photos of me with a woman, arriving at the hotel and then leaving the next morning. That would be enough for a judge to presume...well, you know..."

"And where does your lawyer think you will find a woman to do this?" She suspected she knew, but had to be sure.

"Well, er, I believe it's usual to pay someone." Jean now had her eyes closed and he was sure he had seen her shudder. "Nothing would happen, Jean. It's just for the sake of the divorce."

"The divorce." Jean pushed her plate away and stood up. "Perhaps we shouldn't even be thinking of a divorce then. Lucien, how can you even consider doing this? We'll just have to wait for the five years to be up. We're fine as we are, aren't we?"

He caught at her hand as she walked away from him, but her fingers slipped through his. His hopes slipped away too. Could they really live in this strange limbo for five more years? Maybe Jean thought she could, but he was far from sure he could wait that long.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **This might seem an odd way of obtaining a divorce, but it was actually pretty common in the days before 'no-fault' divorce. Hiring someone to go away with, and then arranging to be photographed, or for hotel staff to give evidence, was a relatively convenient way to get a divorce on the grounds of 'adultery', even if no adultery actually occurred.**

 **In Britain at least, it became known as a Brighton Quickie in the 1940s and 50s, as there were hotels in Brighton that were well known for arranging this!**


	2. A Half Truth

Jean arrived at the play rehearsal rather more flustered than usual, and she knew she was not giving enough attention to what was happening. She had only a small part, but she was normally reliable and knew her lines. This evening she missed her cue twice and it was obvious her thoughts were elsewhere.

"Are you alright, Jean?" the director asked as they cleared away at the end. She nodded at him. She certainly wasn't going to tell Robert what was on her mind.

Five years. It was unthinkable. But so was the alternative.

She let herself back into the house quietly and hung up her coat. The walk home had calmed her somewhat and she hoped now to be able to go to bed without meeting Lucien. But that was not to be.

"Jean? Is that you?" His voice came through from the living room.

Jean sighed slightly and went to find him. "I'm just going to bed, Lucien," she said, firmly.

He nodded. "I'm sorry, Jean. I didn't know you would hate the idea so much." She raised her eyebrows at that. He knew her better than that, surely?

"Most of Ballarat thinks we're sleeping together, Lucien. Isn't that enough? Do you have to find someone else to pretend to sleep with? Perhaps you should just invite the judge to talk to some of our neighbours." She sounded bitter, worn down even, and his heart ached for her.

"Jean, if I could change all this I would. I wouldn't hurt you for the world, but I know I have. I don't know what else I can do."

"I'm tired, Lucien. Let's talk about this tomorrow." She left swiftly and he heard her footsteps retreating up the stairs. This was the first night in months that she had not kissed him goodnight. Perhaps he shouldn't be surprised after what he had proposed.

xxxxxxxxxx

In the morning, Lucien didn't raise the subject, and they both walked on eggshells, afraid of what the other might want to do. It was evening again before Jean plucked up the courage to ask the questions that had been going round in her head all night, and most of the day as well.

"So, if Mei Lin divorces you, will the woman you spend the night with be named?" The question tumbled out rapidly. Lucien put down the newspaper and turned towards her.

"In the divorce, do you mean? Well, yes, of course." He was relieved that at least they were talking about it again.

"So it's likely The Courier will write something about it?" she asked.

He nodded slowly. "It's possible I suppose. But it's less likely than if we divorced in Australia. I don't think they follow the divorce courts in Hong Kong!"

"But, it's possible that the paper might publish an article about you being unfaithful to Mei Lin, with a woman in Melbourne?" The dangerous glint in her eye should have warned him, but it didn't.

"Well, yes, they might, but I don't think it's very likely, and your name won't be mentioned, Jean." He got up and moved over to sit next to her on the couch.

"But if they do, all the people in Ballarat who talk about us will think you've deceived me, as well as Mei Lin. They'll assume you've taken up with a third woman." Her expression was so appalled he wanted to laugh, but managed not to.

"Jean, I thought we'd agreed not to listen to the gossip. We know the truth so why does it matter what other people think?" He took her hand in his and she didn't pull away.

"I don't care what they think, really. But your patients might. It's not good for business if they think badly of you. And if they think that you've been unfaithful to your wife and to me, there will be plenty of men who won't want their wives and children to be your patients." She was stroking the back of his hand slowly with her thumb, but unconsciously.

He sighed miserably. She was right, as usual. It would all be messy and unpleasant.

"We might have to just weather the storm, Jean. Once we're married all the talk will die down."

Jean took a deep breath. She knew she was going to regret this, but she still needed to say it.

"I think it might be best, Lucien, if I were the woman named in the divorce. At least that's nearer to the truth. It's more believable than a stranger spending a night with you." She held his gaze, refusing to look away. She was determined not to feel ashamed of loving him.

"I don't want you dragged into this, Jean," he said stubbornly.

"But I am in it already. I'm the reason you and Mei Lin are getting divorced. Plenty of people think I'm your mistress anyway, so we'd only be confirming what they already thought." She gave him a small smile, acknowledging the irony.

He looked so surprised it was almost funny. "You don't need to do this, Jean. It's all...invented. It's just for show, so that I can get a divorce. I haven't been unfaithful to Mei Lin, but I just need to pretend to. I won't have you mixed up in this." He thought he sounded firm enough to put an end to all this now.

There was a long pause, while Jean thought. "But you have," she said. "You have been unfaithful to Mei Lin, in your heart at least, with me. These last few months, that's what we've been doing. We mightn't have been sleeping together, but we've wanted to. I have, anyway." Her voice had sunk almost to a whisper and she had closed her eyes, shutting him out.

He couldn't reply to that. It took his breath away. He put his arms around her, tightly, as they sat on the couch, and rested his face against her hair. "Jean..." He couldn't find the words he wanted.

She ruffled her fingers through the back of his hair, feeling the curls he took so much effort to tame.

"I'd rather do it this way," she said. "It feels more honest, even if it's not quite. Let me have this, at least."

He had started to kiss her neck softly and play with her curls with his fingers. "Let me think about it for a while," he said, and she knew then he would give way to her in the end.


	3. A Public Lie

Jean tried not to think too hard about what they would have to do next. Some weeks passed and she was left in the dark again.

Lucien seemed to spend a lot of time on the phone to his lawyer, and at least one letter followed. He didn't discuss this with her at all. Then one morning she overheard him on the phone, speaking Chinese, she assumed with Mei Lin.

Jean felt ridiculously jealous. She knew it was irrational, and that Lucien loved her, and that all the trouble they were going to over the divorce was for her sake really. But she struggled with the links he and Mei Lin had - a daughter, a language, a shared history she could never really understand.

"Mei Lin thinks it's unlikely the Australian press will report on the divorce," he said, rather out of the blue, that evening.

"Does she?" Jean looked up from her knitting. Her tone of voice must have alerted him because he went over and kissed her cheek, then sat down on the couch beside her.

"Are you sure about coming away with me, Jean? You don't have to do this, you know. I could still find someone you don't know, or we could just wait out the separation if you'd prefer." He hoped she wouldn't choose that option, however.

She shook her head. "I don't want to wait that long, Lucien." She knew that was no solution.

"If you have to do this, then I want it to be with me."

He laughed softly. "How unromantic you are, Jean!" But then he was more serious. "I'm glad you're coming with me. There's no one I'd rather spend a night in a hotel with than you, even though we'll just be sleeping. But I'm sorry to get you mixed up in this."

She patted his hand. "I'll be fine. The idea seems so contrived, and if I'm honest, a bit sordid. But it has to be done and I'm sure we'll cope." She made the effort to smile at him. "When are we going?"

"Soon. Next weekend, perhaps." Privately, he was a little excited at the idea of a night away from the house with Jean, even under these circumstances. "What are we going to say to Charlie?"

Jean pursed her lips. She would have preferred not to tell Charlie anything, but that wouldn't be possible. "Maybe we could say we need to visit Melbourne to sort out the divorce, and we'll be away overnight." She smiled at the careful evasion of some important details.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Three days later and they were on the train to Melbourne. Jean removed her gloves and put them in her handbag, then looked around at the other passengers. She was rather nervous, and felt that everyone on the train knew what they were about to do, which was ridiculous, but she couldn't help it.

She reddened at just the thought of someone spying on them, although Lucien had assured her she wouldn't even notice. Still, it felt like an intrusion.

Her hand felt bare, and unfamiliar. She had left her wedding ring at home. The idea was to assure anyone who was interested that they were not married. They had often been mistaken for a married couple. Sometimes one or other of them would correct the assumption, but at other times they enjoyed playing along. This time there could be no misunderstandings.

As Ballarat fell away behind them, Lucien slid his arm around her waist. She glanced at him sharply for a moment. The habit of hiding their feelings in public was a hard one to break. Then she closed her eyes and shuffled a little closer to him, leaning against his side and breathing in his scent.

She still rather hoped no one they knew would see them. She was prepared to take the consequences of their supposedly adulterous weekend in the city, but she would really prefer that only the investigator and the hotel staff would notice them.

Jean rested her head on his shoulder and tried to relax. She slowed her breathing down to match the rise and fall of his chest and gradually slipped into sleep. She didn't wake until the train slowed on the approach to the station and other passengers started to move around and collect together their luggage.

"Lucien, I didn't mean to fall asleep, I'm sorry. Was I hurting your arm?" Jean never usually dozed in the daytime.

"No, I'm fine." He kissed her temple as she straightened up. "I enjoyed watching you, and holding you. What better way could there be to spend an afternoon?" He laughed a little, and moved his arm away, then stood to lift down Jean's case.

They decided to walk the short distance to the hotel, and Jean found herself looking around again to see if anyone was watching them. Lucien tried to distract her with conversation but she was beginning to feel terribly nervous about what they were doing.

"No one is following us, Jean. We just have to act naturally."

"Well, you're the one with the knowledge of spying," she replied tartly. "I don't know how to act naturally. I've never been away with a married man before." She paused and thought about that. "Except the one I was married to, of course."

That raised a smile from Lucien. "In a few months you'll be married to me, if we get this right," he said with some determination.

At the front desk of the hotel Jean looked mostly at her feet. She decided she didn't want to see which names Lucien signed them in with. Perhaps a little embarrassment would be in character anyway.

The hotel was small and comfortable, but not luxurious in any way. The proprietor handed over the room key with a small smile and a knowing look. Once upstairs in their room they both breathed a sigh of relief, and then laughed. Suddenly it seemed more like a game, and they had won the first round.

Jean sat on the bed and kicked off her shoes, undoing the buttons of her jacket. The room was small, with just a bed, an armchair and a small dressing table and stool. Behind the door there was a narrow cupboard, which she assumed was the wardrobe. The bathroom was down the corridor.

"Let's go out and get some dinner," Lucien suggested. He had never taken her out to dinner, and for this part of the evening no pretence was needed. Jean responded by settling herself on the stool and combing through her hair, rearranging it as needed, and redoing her makeup. Lucien watched her from the armchair, enjoying this new intimacy between them. When they were married this would be usual, but for now it was novel, and rather exciting.

They walked together, arm in arm, down the road to a small and rather anonymous restaurant. Once they were away from the hotel they both felt freer, and less self conscious. The food was good and no one took any notice of the middle aged couple holding hands at the corner table.

It was only when the bill came that Jean wondered again with a jolt what she had let herself in for that evening. She had made it perfectly clear to Lucien that they would not really be sleeping together, but she hadn't thought about how that would work out in practice. Soon she would find out.

Sensing a change of mood, Lucien squeezed her hand. "Fortune favours the brave," he said with a smile.

"Does she?" came the reply. "I'm not so sure."

Lucien offered his hand as they walked back and she held it, glad to feel his palm against hers. He had such lovely hands, she had always thought, and she shivered a little at the thought.

"Are you cold?" he asked. "Perhaps we should go inside." He steered her quickly through the hotel doors and the owner nodded at them both in greeting. Heading up the stairs, both Jean and Lucien were lost in their own thoughts, not realising how similar those thoughts were.


	4. Honesty

Jean knew she was deliberately putting off the moment when they would have to go to bed. She had unpacked every item in her suitcase and rearranged all her things on the dressing table. Lucien sat in the armchair, watching her quietly, wondering how he should handle this.

When she finally sat down on the stool, he reached out for her hand.

"Come here," he said with a smile. She came and perched on the arm of his chair, her hand on the back of his neck. This was more them; comfortable with each other but still reserved, and holding something back. Jean kissed the top of his head, and he put his arm round her waist and gently eased her onto his lap.

"This is just us, Jean. There's no pretending here in this room. I'll be very happy to sleep in the armchair - I've done that plenty of times, and I don't want to embarrass you by sharing the bed with you."

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. This was one of the reasons she loved him.

"I'll get changed in the bathroom," she said, and started to get up. Lucien kept her in his lap for a moment.

"Kiss me properly before you do," he whispered in her ear, and she did so willingly. She lengthened the kiss when he went to pull away, stroking his hair softly. She thought she could have happily stayed there with him for ever.

"Thank you for letting me come with you. I know it's a silly idea really, and may make more trouble for us, but at least we'll be in trouble together." She smiled wryly and began to gather up her nightclothes and toiletries, before heading down the corridor to the bathroom.

By the time she returned, Blake had put on pyjamas and his dressing gown, and found a spare blanket in the wardrobe. With a pillow from the bed, he was making himself reasonably comfortable when Jean slipped back into the room quietly.

She turned out all the lights except the one by the bed, and took off her dressing gown and hung it on the back of the door. Avoiding catching Lucien's eye, she climbed into bed and pulled the covers up a little higher.

Then she risked a look across the room. Lucien was eyeing her with amusement, she assumed at her shyness.

"Goodnight," she said, and turned to put out the light.

"Goodnight, Jean," he replied, and he waited till his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He could just see her by the light of the moon and the streetlights leaking around the edge of the curtains. She had turned onto her side, and he could see the slight sheen of her pyjamas against her neck, and her dark hair contrasted against the white pillow.

If they got this right, he thought, if they could convince a judge, then he could have this whenever he wanted. He could watch Jean sleep every night of their lives if he wanted, once they were married.

He suspected now though that she wasn't asleep. Her eyes were closed but she looked tense, and he was sure she was waiting till he slept before she could relax.

Lucien knew sleep wouldn't come for him for a while; he hadn't had his usual whisky, and the chair was not comfortable. He'd been prepared for a sleepless night, but hadn't realised it might stop Jean sleeping too. He had better pretend.

He didn't fool Jean. She felt bad for making him sleep in the chair. She wasn't particularly tired, having slept on the train, and she knew he was watching her through half closed eyelids.

After a few minutes, she slid quietly out of bed and padded across the room. Studying Lucien's face in the darkness, she saw a hint of a smile and prodded him on the shoulder.

"I know you're awake," she said, and lifted the edge of the blanket and sat back down sideways on his lap, her feet pulled up under the blanket. His arms went round her automatically.

"How do you know you didn't just wake me? Maybe I've just been rudely woken by someone prodding me and then sitting on me." She could hear the smile in his voice though.

"I could feel you watching me," she replied. It was cosy and much warmer in his arms, and suddenly the idea of him sleeping in the chair seemed ridiculous. She rested her forehead in the space between his neck and shoulder

"Come to bed," she said, trying to sound matter of fact about it rather than seductive. "It's silly to try to sleep here when there's a perfectly good bed over there."

Even though he fully understood what she meant, a wave of desire passed over him at her words, and she felt him shift a little in response.

"If you're sure," Lucien replied, and she kissed his cheek quickly. Before he knew it, she had got back into bed, and he followed more slowly, taking off his dressing gown and getting in the other side of the bed.

Jean lay facing away from him and he shuffled a little bit closer to her. They weren't touching but he could feel the warmth of her. He kissed her shoulder through the satin of her pyjamas and tried not to think about the skin that lay underneath it, which he had never seen.

"Next time," Jean murmured to him.

"What do you mean, next time?"

"Next time we're in bed together, once we're married, you can do whatever you're thinking about now." She chuckled to herself. "And I can do whatever I want as well."

"Jean..." His voice sounded slightly shocked, but also rather pleased. "You're not making this any easier."

She rolled over to face him and he could see her smiling at him. "Who said it would be easy?"

Jean pushed him gently onto his back and moved right up to his side, curving herself against him. Her breasts were pressed right against his ribs and her toes tickled against his leg.

Lucien slid his arm under her and then wasn't quite sure where to rest his hand. It seemed fine for Jean to touch him however she wished, but he wasn't as confident she would let him put his hand where it naturally fell. Then her hand came up and held his, and guided it to her hip.

"I'm not sure this is going to help me sleep," he said quietly.

"So let's talk, instead," Jean replied. "Tell me about Li, when she was a little girl."

He looked at her in the gloom, surprised. But he started to tell her all he could remember, from the time they knew Mei Lin was expecting, right up to the days before Singapore fell. For the first time he admitted to Jean how afraid he had been for his daughter, and how relieved he had been to get places on the boat for her and Mei Lin. But he also talked about his regrets, and how he had wondered for years if he had just sent them to their deaths.

Jean could understand the guilt he still carried, and she watched him thoughtfully; was this why he still felt that connection to Mei Lin. Was it guilt? She ran her fingers over his chest, and pressed a kiss to his collar bone, rather wishing he wasn't wearing so many clothes. But perhaps he was sensible to keep his pyjamas on under the circumstances.

Lucien turned to her and asked about how she had met Christopher, and she told him about noticing him first at school, but not really getting to know him until they met again at a dance.

"Are you a good dancer, Jean?" Lucien asked curiously.

"Very. Perhaps we should go dancing together one day." She realised there were so many things they had missed out on that other couples did together, and she resolved to put that right, and soon.

She told him more about Christopher, and about her family, and as she finished he kissed her forehead. Why had they never talked like this before?

"Are you going to have to confess this to the priest?" he asked.

Jean laughed. " I suppose so," she said thoughtfully. "I'll confess to the lie, but that's better than having to confess to sleeping with you."

"Hmm," he responded. That was an interesting way of looking at it. "We should try to sleep," he sighed, but despite his doubts that sleep would be possible, they did both doze for a while, then woke briefly before sleeping on till it was fully light.


	5. The Calm before the Storm

Jean was woken by a knock at the bedroom door. Jolted awake, she found herself still wrapped in Lucien's arms, and it was tempting to close her eyes again and relish the moment.

However, Lucien whispered in her ear, "Stay here and don't hide," then got out of bed to answer the door. Jean's instinct was to pull the covers up higher but she tried to resist hiding her face from the chambermaid who stepped into the room. She set down a tray on the dressing table and left, casting no more than a glance in Jean's direction.

Once the chambermaid had gone, Jean sat up in bed and watched as Lucien poured them both some tea.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"Just making sure she knew we were together," he replied. "Someone might ask her, and we want her to be sure we shared a bed."

Jean nodded with resignation. She could see the point, and after all, she had chosen to do this.

"What were you going to do if you'd stayed in the chair all night?" she asked.

"I'd have messed up my side of the bed, I suppose, so she'd have thought I slept there." There was a pause, while they both thought.

Lucien got back into bed while they drank their tea. Jean put her hand on his leg, over the covers.

"Do you think we can go back to our old ways after this? We've only had one night, and I can't imagine sleeping on my own again." She sounded rather sad.

"That's up to you, Jean." He said no more. He wanted nothing more than for her to share his bed every night, but that had to be her decision.

By the time they had both bathed and dressed, and packed their bags, they had to rush to get to breakfast in time. Jean suffered a momentary pang of embarrassment at coming to breakfast with a man she was not married to, but she forced the feeling aside and did her best to act the part.

Lucien went and paid their bill and they set out for the station on foot.

"So, will that be enough to get you the divorce?" Jean asked.

"I should hope so. We'll find out in a few weeks. I'll ring Mei Lin this afternoon so she can get the divorce started."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

There followed several weeks of calm. Charlie hadn't queried their story about why they had gone away, though Jean felt a little guilty at deceiving him. Life returned very much to normal in the house, though Charlie did notice they were more demonstrative than before. A couple of times he caught them cuddling up on the couch, or kissing in the kitchen when he came to dinner.

They managed to keep from him however that some nights they had shared a bed, usually Lucien's, although that was all they shared. As far as Charlie was aware, they arrived for breakfast separately and it didn't occur to him to question where they had slept.

Lucien and Jean were fairly sure he wouldn't have minded if he'd known, but why put him in that position?

At last the lawyer wrote to say the divorce had been granted, and he enclosed a copy of the document, which was in Chinese. Lucien showed it to Jean, and translated most of it for her. Her suggestion that they should frame it and hang it in the surgery was not a serious one, but she did feel a certain satisfaction in the part she had played in obtaining it.

A few months earlier the means of getting the divorce had horrified her, but now it seemed worth it. That feeling however would not last long.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The call from Rose was not entirely unexpected. Jean answered the phone to her, and half-guessed what it would be about. As she handed the phone over to Lucien she hovered in the doorway, hoping to see from his face whether the news was all bad.

He said very little and Jean could not hear Rose's side of the conversation. Lucien hung up slowly and turned to face her.

"Someone phoned The Courier with news about the divorce. She doesn't know who it was. There will be an item about it in the paper tomorrow. She can't stop it being published; she was just warning us about it." He looked angry, but his voice was very controlled.

"We knew it might happen," Jean replied, reaching out to take his hand. "People will gossip for a few days, but it will blow over." Even as she said this, she knew it would be worse than that.

"I need to go to the butcher's, Lucien, and maybe the greengrocer's. Can I borrow the car?" She thought that if she shopped today, she could avoid going into town for a few days.

Lucien looked at her blankly, then he realised what she meant.

"Yes, that's a good idea," he agreed, "but first you will need this. It's time we were properly engaged." He went to his desk and took from the drawer his mother's engagement ring. Jean took her wedding ring off, opened the box and put the ring on her finger. It fitted perfectly.

"How did you know the size?" She had seen the ring before of course, when he first tried to propose, but she had never tried it on.

"I borrowed your other ring," he admitted. "When you thought you had lost it..."

She smiled for a moment, remembering. "Thank you," she said. "It's lovely, Lucien." She held her hand out to admire it. "I just hope it helps to stop the worst of the talk about us."

"I hope so too. Even if it doesn't, we know the truth." He kissed her gently, then more definitely.

"I think I'll come with you into town," he said. "I've got an errand to run as well."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later that evening, Lucien told Charlie about the divorce, and what they had done. Charlie raised his eyebrows when he realised why Blake and Jean had spent the night in Melbourne, finally making the connection, and so Lucien had to set him right on what had really happened.

If that conversation was awkward, he realised there would be others that would be far worse, with people less sympathetic to them, and that he wouldn't be able to explain the facts away. He and Jean had gone away together, and they couldn't deny how that looked.

"How could you let her do that, Doc?" Charlie asked. He looked at Lucien with horror. "It's going to be awful for her."

"It was her choice, Charlie. She thought it would be better than a stranger, and maybe she's right, we'll just have to wait for it all to blow over."


	6. Bitter truth

Lucien was waiting for The Courier to be delivered early the next morning. He couldn't have said why exactly. After all, he knew what the article would say, more or less, and there was nothing he could do to change it.

He left his bedroom door open so he would hear the paper land on the step, and finished getting dressed. He heard Jean's footsteps approaching, and so was not surprised when she appeared and looked around the door at him.

She smiled rather wanly at him and reached forward for his tie, which was draped around his neck. She set about tying it for him and smoothing down his collar. When she had finished she left her hand flat on his chest, feeling his strength and hoping to borrow a little of it.

"We'll be fine, Jean. It might be unpleasant for a while, but we have good friends, and they will support us."

She nodded but the ache in her stomach worsened. What would their friends really think? What about Alice and Matthew? What about the sewing circle, and her friends at church? Surely they would be horrified?

xxxxxxxxxx

Over breakfast all three members of the household read the article. It was short, but very clear that Mei Lin had been granted a divorce on the grounds that Lucien had been unfaithful to her with Jean. Their names were there in black and white, but no photos, thankfully.

Strangely, it was a relief to read it. Now it was public knowledge and there was no going back. Charlie wasn't sure whether to comment or not, and was trying think of something suitable to say, when his eye was caught by a small notice on the opposite page.

"I see you're engaged officially then?" He pointed to the announcement in the paper. Jean came around the table to see.

"Lucien, what were you thinking? On the same day!" She shook her head, with a mixture of fondness and frustration.

" I didn't want anyone to doubt that I intend to make an honest woman of you. You've done nothing to be ashamed of. It was the least I could do to make it better."

"We'll find out if it works this morning," Jean replied. The appointments book was full, and she was sure some of the patients would let her know what they thought.

Charlie helped wash up while Jean cleared the table and Lucien went to the surgery to get ready. Drying his hands on the towel, Charlie turned to Jean and, for the first time ever, kissed her on the cheek.

"Congratulations. I hope you'll be very happy together. You've certainly earned some happiness, and it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks."

Jean smiled at him, the first genuine smile he'd seen from either her or Lucien since Rose's phone call.

"Thank you, Charlie. I'm sorry we've put you in a difficult position."

"You haven't," he replied, heading towards his room to get ready for work.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

At lunch time, over a sandwich and a cup of tea, they compared notes. Out of fourteen patients booked in, five had not arrived. As for those who had arrived, most had either not mentioned the divorce at all, or had congratulated them on their engagement. But two had been unpleasant; Mrs Roberts had openly accused Jean of breaking up Lucien's marriage, and an older lady whom Jean knew from church, Miss Wilkinson, had muttered in Jean's hearing about them living in sin.

Two out of nine was not as bad as they had feared, perhaps. Lucien suggested taking the two women who had been rude to Jean off his list; they would have to find another doctor.

"Neither of them had the courage to say anything to me, Jean, and I won't have patients treating you like that." He was angry on her behalf.

"We've already lost five patients in one morning, Lucien. We can't afford to lose two more. Anyway, they don't understand what really happened."

"You're more forgiving than I am, then," he replied.

"I didn't say I'd forgiven them, did I? This is business, and if they still want you as their doctor, I'll put up with the comments." Her words were defiant, but she did wonder if every surgery would be as fraught as this one had been.

With no patients to see in the afternoon, Lucien phoned Matthew and invited him to dinner, and then when he thought about it a bit more, he called Alice too. He spent a couple of hours in his study reading, but he felt restless.

Wandering through to the kitchen, he found Jean preparing vegetables at the table.

"I've asked Matthew and Alice to dinner," he said, pacing up and down the kitchen.

"Right. Well, it's nothing special, Lucien. I wasn't expecting company." She looked slightly annoyed with him.

"Yes, I'm sorry, I should have asked you first. I'm sure they won't mind what we eat. I thought some sympathetic company might be good."

"How do you know they'll be sympathetic?" she asked. "They may be as shocked as anyone else, Lucien."

"I hardly think so, Jean. They're our friends. If they had been bothered by us living together for the last two years, I think they would have said something before now."

Jean sighed. "They didn't know about the sleeping together, though, did they?"

"You mean, the sleeping together that didn't actually happen? Jean, I'll tell them the truth. It will be fine."

She stared at him in horror. "You can't tell Matthew and Alice about...that!"

He grinned at her, and eventually she saw how ridiculous the situation was, and smiled back. "I just hope they're not too shocked."

"I don't think either of them are easily shocked, Jean."

xxxxxxxxxxx

Matthew raised the subject as soon as he was through the door. Shaking Blake's hand and kissing Jean's cheek, he looked from one to the other and said, "So, divorced and engaged on the same day? Is the wedding tomorrow?"

They both smiled rather ruefully at him. It was rare to see Blake uncomfortable about anything.

"We haven't fixed a date yet, Matthew," Lucien replied. If anything he seemed more embarrassed than Jean.

"Well, congratulations," Matthew replied, producing a bottle of whisky from his coat pocket. "You might need a drop of this if you're planning to go out in public in the near future. The whole town is talking about you."

Lucien groaned. Why had he ever let Jean talk him into this? He didn't care what people thought of him, but he hated them thinking badly of Jean.

Jean left them in the hallway and headed back to the kitchen to see to the dinner. Matthew immediately pushed Blake towards the surgery and shut the door behind them.

"What did you think you were doing, dragging Jean into the divorce like that? And frankly I'm surprised at her, sleeping with you while you're still married. That's the thing that's got people talking. They don't seem to find it hard to believe of you, but Jean...?" Matthew shook his head in disbelief.

"Jean will probably kill me for telling you, but we didn't sleep together. It was all just arranged for the divorce."

There was a knock at the front door, but both men ignored it, too occupied in glaring at each other angrily. They heard Jean open the door to Alice, and their voices fading as they went towards the kitchen. When they couldn't hear the women anymore, Matthew scowled at Lucien.

"Couldn't you have found someone else for your little game? Someone who didn't have to live it down for the rest of her life?" His voice was rising dangerously. "Jean's my friend too, and you seem determined to ruin her."

A moment's silence was followed by Jean and Alice appearing at the surgery door.

"When you two have finished arguing like boys, the dinner is ready. And Lucien is right. We told a lie, to get the divorce, but that's the only thing we have to be ashamed of." For the first time since all this started, she was near to tears. Jean swung round and rushed to the kitchen, pulling Alice with her.

The men followed more slowly and no more was said on the subject over dinner. Alice, as usual, talked about work, so no one else had to think of much to say. After the meal they sat in the living room, and Blake poured them all a glass of whisky. Jean drank hers with unusual haste, but it did help steady her.

Matthew decided the moment had come to apologise. "I'm sorry Jean, I didn't mean for you to get upset. Would you like us to put people right when they gossip?" He gestured to include Alice in 'us'.

"No, Matthew. People can think what they like. It will all blow over eventually if we just say nothing." She hoped so, anyway.

Alice nodded in agreement. "Much better to say nothing. But when are you getting married? Surely that will help settle things."

Lucien looked at Jean. "I don't know. We haven't talked about it yet. But as soon as possible would be best, I think."

Jean looked at him with relief. They should have thought of that as the first thing to do. She resolved to make him ring the registry office in the morning.


	7. The Unvarnished Truth

**Thank you for all the reviews. This is the last chapter for this story. People seem to have enjoyed it so far, so I hope you like the ending too. xx**

The next two weeks seemed the longest Jean could remember. Time hung very heavily in the house.

Lucien's practice continued to lose patients at a steady rate. There was plenty of time between appointments now for him to rage about the hypocrisy of those who expected their doctor to be more upright than they were themselves.

He saved his choicest words for the patients who snubbed Jean, or worse still, insulted her. There weren't many of them, but their words stung. Jean persuaded him to keep his thoughts private between the two of them; they couldn't afford to lose more patients.

Money was going to be much tighter for a while. Lucien would have to provide for Mei Lin until she was settled in her new home, and he had never been used to watching what he spent.

"At least you won't have to pay for a housekeeper for much longer." Jean attempted to make light of the situation. She was used to making economies; they would just have to be careful.

Jean was more concerned with how long the talk about them would take to die down. She truly didn't much mind what people she hardly knew thought of her, or Lucien, but she did mind when acquaintances avoided her in town, or at church.

She was finding out who her true friends were. Dorothy from the sewing circle had called round to congratulate them, and Alice had invited both of them to dinner, 'as long as you don't mind eating my cooking'. Some other friends found it all too difficult; they were embarrassed, or even disappointed, and kept their distance.

After a few days, Lucien noticed Jean was staying home far more than usual. He suspected she was avoiding any confrontations in town, and while he understood why she would do this, it wouldn't help them in the long run.

"I'm going into Ballarat this afternoon," he said, as casually as he could manage. "Do you need to do any shopping? You could come with me." This was unusual enough for Jean to look up at him, puzzled. He rarely involved himself in household errands.

He smiled at the tiny frown on her face. He loved that look.

"Avoiding people isn't going to help, Jean. Most people will be fine with us, and I'll answer any that aren't."

She agreed, perhaps reluctantly, but she knew he was right.

Their first call, at the butcher's, went well. Perhaps the assistant was surprised that Jean wasn't shopping alone, as she usually did, but nothing was said beyond the usual pleasantries. In the greengrocer's there was some murmuring from one of the customers, but Lucien glared at the woman and she turned away.

Lucien was right, no one was prepared to criticise him to his face, so perhaps he would have to make more shopping trips with Jean until she was feeling more confident. They went for some tea in a cafe, rather than rushing home, and eventually they relaxed a little. Jean didn't even object when he took her hand for a moment.

On the way back to the car, she put her arm through his, and a smile on her face. Better to be bold about it. If people wanted to stare, then let them.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The following day, Jean phoned Alice. There was one shopping trip she didn't want to take Lucien on, the one to buy herself a wedding dress. If she was honest, she wasn't sure Alice was the ideal person to take either, but with Mattie gone her choices were few.

If the wedding had been later, Jean might have made her own dress, but with the wedding booked for the following week there was no time.

It was in the second shop that they found the right dress - pale turquoise silk, very plain, with a jacket to match. Alice was delighted that she had spotted it first, and they both knew as soon as Jean tried it on that this was the one. Matching shoes completed the outfit.

With the dress carefully folded in a large bag, they both caught the bus back to Blake's house, where they hung the dress away in the wardrobe in Mattie's old room, and put the shoes under the bed. Lucien was very unlikely to go in there and find them.

Over a cup of tea in the kitchen, Alice asked how they were coping with the gossip.

"We've had a few nasty comments, and lost some patients, but I hope the worst is over now. This morning we had a new patient too, a single woman expecting a baby. She said to Lucien she thought we wouldn't judge her, so perhaps we might get a few more patients who think the same, in time."

"In a few months this will all be forgotten, Jean, I'm sure. You've done your best, and so has Lucien, and that's all anyone can ask of you." Alice poured them both some more tea.

Jean smiled sadly. "I'm not sure our best will ever be good enough for some people, but that's not important to us. We know the truth, and that's what matters."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Shortly before they needed to leave for the registry office, on the morning of their wedding, Lucien went in search of Jean. Tapping gently on the glass in her bedroom door, he waited till she answered before going in.

"Isn't it supposed to be unlucky for me to see you before the wedding?" he asked.

"As we're going there in the same car, I don't see we have a choice, really," Jean replied.

For a long moment he admired what he saw. "You look beautiful, Jean," he said in awe.

"The dress is lovely, isn't it?" she replied. "Alice found it."

"The dress is lovely, but it's you that is beautiful," he insisted. "You are beautiful in anything. The dress is just a bonus."he smiled at him; sometimes he knew exactly the right thing to say.

Jean took his hand and he led her downstairs. They stopped near the front door and Lucien turned to her seriously.

"I'm so glad you've agreed to marry me, Jean. And I'm also grateful you came away with me to Melbourne. I know it hasn't been easy for you. If I'd had to go away with a stranger I'd have felt ashamed of myself, I think. But I could never be ashamed of being with you."

It was a strange sort of compliment but she was grateful. It had been hard, but it had also been right, she was sure. There was truth even in the lie they had told.

Jean didn't reply. There was no need. She kissed him on the cheek, then wiped away the smear of lipstick with his handkerchief.

At that moment Charlie put his head around the front door, and blushed to find them kissing in the hallway.

"Time to go, or you'll be late," he said. Blake and Jean got into the back of the car, and Charlie settled himself in the driver's seat.

"Ready?" he asked, and Jean replied for them both, as Charlie drove away.

"We certainly are."


End file.
